Damn'd Spot
by Morbid DramaQueen10
Summary: His wandering feet lead him to the drawing room almost without him knowing it. As he walked, he rubbed his hands together, as though trying to smooth away the imaginary wrinkles he felt littering the skin's surface. Set after Boom Town. Rose/9. Read intro
1. Chapter 1

**Damn'd Spot**

**Chapter 1**

**This has been "borrowed" and altered from a scene in chapter 26, "Oh, Baby…" of **_**Cravings. **_**I decided it in itself could stand as a two-chapter bit. So, here it is, unedited except by myself. **

**DISCLAIMER: Doctor Who isn't mine. Pity.**

**The title is stolen from the Shakespeare passage incooperated into the plot, from the Scottish Play. This takes place shortly after Boom Town, and after Mickey officially breaks off with Rose. We don't see her too upset on screen. This is what I'd have liked to see happen. **

**Rose/9/Jack. **

The silence was unbearable. In separate sections of the ship, the two were privately mourning their losses. Regardless of the distance, Jack keenly felt their combined misery, and it bothered him to no end. So he sought to fix it.

Ever since seeing the pair together in that hospital, he had felt their chemistry, their undeniable bond. From the start he'd assumed her attachment had been far deeper than his, then just as quickly changed his guess when he observer the gruff Time Lord's tenderness toward the 21st century human girl. His was possibly a profounder connection, deeper than Jack could fathom. Rose was a sweet thing, yes. Nice on the eyes, easy on the figure. But a human. A relatively simple human.

Each to his own. Though, the Doctor hadn't seemed to keen on actually _claiming _"his own," as Jack found out while discussing Rose's relationship with Mickey. Rose, who usually prattled on about the distant stars, was rather reluctant to discuss her home life. Maybe it was a general distaste, or the brooding look cast over her alien companion's face when ever her boyfriend's name arose in conversation. Whatever it was, Rose didn't like it. And it was clearly Mickey who was preventing the pair from coming together-so Jack thought. That's where he'd been horridly wrong. The misassumption was proved to be incorrect in Cardiff, while they were attending to one particularly troublesome Slitheen.

The relationship had ended in Cardiff, though he never knew the exact circumstances. Rose had retreated to a good cry and an even better cuppa in the drawing room. She thought she had been so sneaky, leaving at the first chance. But both of her companions had seen the glassy eyes—she was in pain. It did not take anyone too long to deduce the cause of that pain.

The Doctor had been altered, full of scowls and snapping words when he'd just been bouncing from the success of the day a few seconds before. Even with the risk of his own life, Jack pushed the grumpy Time Lord to speak with her.

"C'mon. She could really use a friend."

"Then you go to her."

"I think you'd be more welcome." _Far more welcome. _

"I disagree." The Doctor said brusquely, pushing himself off from the grated floor of the console room, where he'd been making some minor repairs prior to their trip to Raxacoricofallapatorius. He rubbed his greasy hands on a bit of cloth, legs firmly apart as he observed the ex-Time Agent from top-to-toe, who just looked back. The heavy leather jacket lay slung across one of the rails, exposing a toned torso hidden only by a blue jumper, which was damp from sweat. The underside of the console was void of air currents and air conditioning, and could be quite stifling on the best of days. The Time Lord's forehead was a tad blackened with grease. His muscles strained under the shirt. In a word, he was delicious. Unfortunately for Jack, he was also mostly taken.

The alien continued. "In fact, absolutely not. S'not my place."

Dumbfounded, Jack barked out a laugh. "Not your place?"

"No. Not my place."

"Why?"

The Doctor turned away, occupying himself with the knobs and levers of the consol, still rubbing his hands with the raggedy cloth, though they were long clean. For a moment, Jack was reminded of Lady Macbeth, washing her hands of Duncan's blood.

_Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then  
>'tis time to do't.—Hell is murky.—Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and<br>afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our  
>pow'r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to<br>have had so much blood in him?_

Jack recalled learning that passage in school, long ago. The crazed woman had repeatedly washed herself of a bloody sin, but to what aim? She had committed it fully informed. What was the Doctor was cleaning his hands of? The intentional destruction of Rose's relationship? Guilt? He couldn'tve actually done it, he wasn't nearly that selfish.

Would he allow himself to have her, now that Mickey was out of the way? Rose wouldn't refuse him, wouldn't even dream of it. If he had thought to try before all of this, without a doubt she would have accepted. But he hadn't tired, hadn't even thought of trying.

"'S just not." He said quietly, still rubbing his hands. "Leave her alone, Jack. She needs a chance to cry it out."

"She needs a friend!" Jack crossed his arms, bracing himself. "And you know her better than I do. I'd get all awkward about it."

"And I wouldn't?" The Time Lord chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, I'd make a right mess of things. Bulky old me, probably prattle on about how everything has its end, how he was never good enough for her, how she deserved someone smarter, better, more ambitious and able. Tell her she needs someone more than a pretty boy, needs someone like-Leave her alone." He repeated suddenly, stopping himself with unnatural abruptness. "Just-leave her alone."

"I will." Jack promised. "But you can't. You can't, and you shouldn't. For both your sakes."

And then he made his exit, hoping his imparting words might lead the Doctor toward some sort of action. They really did deserve one another.

**Please review. Thanks! Chapter two should be coming up within a day, if not hours. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Damn'd Spot**

**Chapter 2**

**Did you like it? **

**Well, here's the last half. Hope you enjoy it. Please review! **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

After he deposited the egg, the Doctor is left with little to do. All repairs are more extensive than he'd like to get into tonight, and he hasn't seen neither hide nor hair of Jack since he'd left dramatically about two hours previous.

His wandering feet lead him to the drawing room almost without him knowing it. As he walked, he rubbed his hands together, as though trying to smooth away the imaginary wrinkles he felt littering the skin's surface. This body was particularly young. Yet, he could feel his age with painful clarity. She made him feel this way. Always.

The door creaked a little louder than he'd like. Silent (and he was _silent, _with over nine hundred years of existence it was impossible not to learn such tricks, even in such a bulky body), he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. The room was an imposing Victorian-revival, filled with velvet and mahogany, winged armchairs with scrolling detail, brass stud nails, silk and lace coverings, curious glass figures, and dark wallpaper. He had once liked it a great deal. That time had passed, along with his eighth body.

Passing a mirror, he saw a small, black stain on the chest of his jumper. Grease. _Great. _That wouldn't be coming out anytime soon. And he was rather fond of this particular jumper.

The spot was sort of like Rose. It was a part of something he loved. Difficult, yet he'd never think of getting rid of it. A bit of a mistake, but one that served a greater purpose. It just sort of added to the whole character of the jumper—something that made him love it even more. It had come from an effort he was proud to claim.

He found the source of his hand-worrying in one corner, curled into one of those massive winged chairs. Rose was covered in a silk throw. He couldn't tell if this was of her own doing, or Jack's. He smelled the other human's cologne, a piney scent Jack was very fond of, hanging in the air. The throw was draped rather messily, as though haphazardly toss over her already-sleeping form. A cup of lukewarm tea sits beside her on a small lacquered table. She is breathing heavily. The sleep is fitful. Even from this distance, he can see the outline of salt, faintly crusted in white lines running down her swollen cheeks.

This wasn't what he had wanted. As much as he might…desire…Rose, he hadn't wanted her to feel any pain in her separation. He hadn't wished to hurt her. And yet, he had. He'd taken her away, distracted her from her "real life," as Jackie liked to call it, and practically seduced her with the stars, the excitement, the timeship….And what a smooth seduction it had been! Rose had willing come into his home, eager to find a better life. She had wanted this _romance _with the universe as much as he had wanted her. And now, she was paying for it. Mickey couldn't take the neglect any longer. The Doctor knew she didn't blame him.

Truly, all he had hoped to do tonight was make her a fresh cup, then put her to bed. She would be tired by the day's events. She would need rest. He hadn't planned on talking about what had happened. Nor had he planned on finding his charge asleep.

He'd only see her in this state a handful of times. It was quite endearing, as she snored awfully, and tossed about.

But not tonight.

Sighing, the Doctor resigned himself to the armchair opposite. He was determined to wait until she had awoken herself. Then he would guide her back to her room, help her take off those trainers, tuck her in, and leave her to her sleep cycle. Perfectly innocent.

As usual.

The thought of comforting her through other means niggled in the back of his mind. He pushed these down, knowing physical relations would serve neither of them.

When she woke twenty minutes later, bleary-eyed and mush-mouthed, he suppressed the feeling again. Face half-hidden in shadow, he quietly questioned her. Rose mumbled replies in the darkness, rising to stumble forward. Once she found him, she rather quickly fell into his lap, dragging the throw with her. He protested, at first.

"Rose, you can't…you've got to get to bed."

"Mmm…no. M' comfortable here, thanks." She leaned up, pecking his cheek innocently. "I'm glad we won today."

"Won?"

She considered. "Well, not all of us." She kissed him again. "But you did."

"Rose," He started helplessly. But it was too late. She had tucked herself into his embrace, head against his shoulder. A mixture of longing, pity, and untainted pleasure rushed through him. He allowed her to stay, stroking the dyed strands of hair that peeked out from under the rich throw. She _snuffed _lightly, nose still tender from tears. The Doctor, sighing once more, rocked slightly until she fell into a semi-slumber, partially aware of her surroundings.

The talk could wait. She needed him now.

"You've got a spot." Rose said, suddenly awake and alert. She rubbed a grease stain on his jumper vigorously.

"Yeah." He choked. "Won't come out. Just…won't."

"That's silly." She smiled wearily up at him. "Bet you haven't even washed it."

"You're right. But I wouldn't even dream of trying. Love that spot, me. Damn spot, but I love it. Probably wouldn't come out, anyways. Even if I did try. Stubborn, really."

The smile grew wider. "You like stubborn things."

"Yeah. Sometimes." He agreed.

"Promise you won't throw this away for a little spot." She whispered. "This is still my favourite."

"Promise. Sleep, Rose."

Silence fell. Then—

"Mickey broke up with me."

"I know."

"Oh." She nuzzled closer. "I probably deserved it. I was never home. And I got him accused of murder. Hard to stay with a girl after that, even for the best o' blokes."

"No," He disagreed. "Don't think it Rose. Staying with you is easy. Like breathin'. Can't blame yourself, it's Ricky's own fault he couldn't handle a long-term relationship."

"Mickey."

The Doctor grunted, uncaring.

"I'm sorry."

He shifted to look at her. "For what?"

"For…bothering you with this."

"You're not bothering me, love. Sleep." He commanded again. This time, she complied.

Together they sat in the dark, each nursing separate heartbreaks. The night was a long one. But neither could say they honestly minded too much.

**Fin.**

**Sorry, Craving and Red Sky fans. This was really distracting me. Had to finish it.**

**Please review! **

**~Dania**


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